


Boy Who Cried Lycan

by lyrana



Series: The Order 1886 collection [20]
Category: The Order: 1886
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 09:41:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4299963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyrana/pseuds/lyrana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>based on a prompt where the Lord Chancellor meets a young Alastair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boy Who Cried Lycan

“He’s just a boy,” said a voice in his head.

“He’s a monster,” said another.

The inner conflict Lancelot felt as he stared down at the crying child, no older than three, hiding in the closet made his arm shake. The end of his sword was inches away from the boy’s face, all he had to do was take a few steps forward and end his life.

The boy wasn’t looking at Lancelot, or the sword right in front of him. His eyes were focused on the corpses of his mother and father in the background. Their bodies had returned to human form after changing into lycans. The fight was not easy; they both fought hard and for a moment Lancelot honestly thought he would not make it out alive. His shoulder still bled from the mother’s attack, but it was a dull ache now, and soon the blackwater would ensure there’d be nothing left but a scar. Once the fight was over, and they were both dead, Lancelot was about to leave the room and meet up with the other knights, but he heard sniffling in the wardrobe. When he opened the door, the boy cried out when he saw his parents lying still on the ground.

It was clear who he was, and even clearer that Lancelot had to kill him. “He’ll grow up to be just like them,” his mind told him. “He needs to be killed.”

And yet something stopped him. Was it sympathy? Was it the long years spent killing non-stop that was finally taking a toll on him? Whatever it was, it made Lancelot drop his sword, which hit the ground with a loud clang that seemed to echo in his ears.

Time felt slow as he reached out and grabbed the boy by the arm, pulling him into an embrace. The boy struggled at first, screaming at the tops of his lungs to let him go, but as he realized Lancelot would bring no harm to him, he calmed down.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Lancelot cried, over and over again, struggling to contain his sobs as guilt washed over him. The boy did nothing, said nothing. He just sat in his lap, no doubt scared out of his mind.

Here he was, one of the most prestigious knights of the order, drowning in the regret he felt in doing his very duty; to eradicate the half-breeds and protect humanity. Lancelot had always been so determined to fight the lycans that it never occurred to him that there would be victims on the other side of this never-ending conflict.

Lancelot told the boy he’d take care of him, and raise him, and the protests the boy made did not deter him. He picked up his sword and sheathed it, then picked up the boy and carried him away from the corpses of his parents. If his fellow knights asked, he would say that he found the boy and that his parents had been killed by the lycans they were slaying. He would raise the child as his own, as a human, Lancelot decided, and show him that there is some good in the world. Perhaps that would help alleviate the guilt he felt, but also make him feel more human himself.

“What is you name, child?” Lancelot asked as they left the dead behind.

“Alastair,” the little boy whimpered when he calmed down and realized he wasn’t in danger.

“A fine name,” he replied, holding the boy close to him. “A fine name indeed.”


End file.
